We're Not Despicable, We're Just Unpredictable
by GracingOctober
Summary: What if there was a young woman known simply as Big Sister and is just as determined as Gru to become the greatest villian of all time? Who'd win? More importantly, what would they do to win? Rated for language and possibly future chapters.
1. Big Sister

**IT'S ALL THE PLOT BUNNIES' FAULTS.**

I just couldn't help myself after I saw the movie…

I may get a few things wrong since I wasn't paying particular attention to detail in some parts.

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_Big Sister_

5'7" was a pretty damn tall person in the woman world, but she couldn't help it. Long, armored legs strode along the velvet red carpet, statues of men in series of struggles holding up the pillars. Deep green eyes scanned as quickly as possible, searching for any signs of potential danger or inspiration for her plans. Dark brown eyebrows furrowed in questioning at the statue of a man who had collapsed under the pillar he was to be holding up. She cringed. Long dark brown hair tied up into a ponytail swung side to side as the young woman shook her head at the poor site.

Luckily, that statue was the last of them to her left, a man struggling to carry the pillar between his shoulder blades to her right. She sighed. This was going to be an awkward visit. She strode into a very large sitting room, which was only sparsely furnished. Two very long couches were facing each other, at either side of the rug she was walking down. At the end of the rug, there was a large podium, where a woman sat, looking intensely bored.

"Excuse me," the young woman's voice called up to the woman in the podium. "I need to speak with the manager." The older woman looked down to the younger, sniffed, and nodded, then pointed her to the couches, where there were two men. "Brilliant. Just bloody brilliant." She mumbled to herself.

The two men were quite the characters to the young woman. The obviously older one wore a dark sweater, with a black and gray scarf wrapped delicately around his somewhat stout neck. He sported dark pants as well that fit well with his legs and black shoes. He was obviously pretty dark. But then again, she was dressed in somewhat armor from her old home that made her somewhat threatening when she was fairly nice to others, so who was she to talk? The man had a long nose and bald hair, but his eyebrows suggested he had once sported medium brown hair. He was quiet.

The younger man wore a blinding orange sweat suit, with white stripes down the sides. He had a bowl cut of darker brown hair and large glasses and wore white shoes. He was speaking animatedly with the older man who seemed to be ignoring him. The younger man obviously didn't notice the older man's ignoring demeanor. He was showing off what seemed to be a gun with FISH crammed into it. He shot it, but it ended up falling into an arc and back onto the young man.

She shook her head. This was going to be quite the interesting wait. She sat in the farther corner of the opposite couch.

5 minutes passed by when the younger man finally introduced himself as Vector, saying he got his name from some mathematical term or another. She didn't bother to listen. She just mentally noted to herself to put him on "The List" if he continued to rant on.

And then she found out who did the ultimate.

"I stole the pyramid in Egypt. Cool, huh?" Vector ranted on, looking nonchalant. She was stunned. NO. A man as annoying as that could NOT have stolen the pyramid of Giza. She glared at him with a questioning look, the older man looking stunned as well.

She shook her head. Vector was boasting about something that he didn't do, that's it. While trying to look cool, he looked around the room, spotting her.

"Hey there, sweet cheeks-" As the last two words left his mouth, she leapt over the wide carpet and landed on his lap, her spear gun strapped to her right forearm hovered threateningly in between his eyes.

"Don't EVER call me that." She spat out angrily between her teeth, death glare proving she wasn't joking. She spotted out of the corner of her eye the older man looking shocked at her. She got down and headed to sit on the couch across from them, but actually sitting in the corner closest to them.

"Then what is your name? Or what do you go by?" The older man asked, thick Russian accent clear in his voice.

"I go by Big Sister. If you've ever been to Rapture, you would know what type of person that is." She said matter-of-factly. "What's yours?"

"I am Gru." This was all he said, before going back to what looked to be daydreaming (**AN: I totally forgot what he was doing while Vector was talking to him. So sorry!**).

"Isn't a big sister an older sister of a younger sibling?" Vector said, one eyebrow up in a cocky smirk. Oh, he was going on the list.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Vector. No, in Rapture, a Big Sister isn't just an older sibling, but it's one of the higher authority figures. In Rapture, we have young girls that collect ADAM known as Little Sisters. Little Sisters need protecting while they collect the ADAM, so the Big Daddy was created, where full grown men are put into suits and equipped with weapons like drills and rivet guns to protect their Little Sisters. However, sometimes a Big Daddy can go AWOL and will attack their Little Sister. This presents a HUGE problem since without the right tools or experience, a Big Daddy is extremely hard to take down. So, they needed to create a higher authority figure in Rapture to take down Big Daddies, which is when the Big Sisters were born. Their sole job is to take down Big Daddies in case they go AWOL or their isn't enough Big Daddies to look after the Little Sisters while they do their jobs. In Rapture, I was one of the first Big Sisters created. And I was damn good at my job." She explained.

"And keep pissing me off by making smart remarks like that again, and I will take you down like I did in Rapture, and since you don't have metal and heavy duty cloth armor," She pointed to herself in her armor, "You'll be pretty damn easy. So sit down," Vector was standing up, trying to look tougher she guessed or at least going over to her seat to talk to her, "Shut up, and be productive. QUIETLY."

She could hear Gru sniggering from his seat.

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I would love reviews! :D Obviously, most of this is in mention of the video game, Bioshock. You can go on DeviantArt or Bioshock wikia to see details. I'm not sure about the whole Big Sisters job description thing. That's what I imagine they're for.

Play Bioshock. Fun game. Then play Bioshock 2, which is where I got most of my inspiration. :D

Remember:

**SYDNEY WANTS REVIEWS! :D**


	2. Memories

**OMG I love you irene and WrittenOnTheSubwayWalls. **

**I love you two soooo much, you have no idea.**

**You two made my day, no, scratch that, MONTH.**

**Thank you two SO SO SO much for the reviews that totally made my month! :D**

**I totally forgot this in the last chapter, probably because I didn't want to, I don't know. But here it goes:**

***Sigh* I do not own Despicable Me. Only my OCs. Neither do I own Bioshock or Bioshock 2.**

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_Memories_

The old woman at the podium finally called out for Gru to go see the manager, Mr. Perkins. Gru stretched out his legs as though he had been sitting there for a while and walked the length of the carpet into another room that overlooked the waiting area, which is where she assumed Mr. Perkins to be.

"So…" Vector began, lounging on the couch across from her. Her right eyebrow shot up, while her left stayed down, a questioning but threatening look covered her face. "Come here often?"

She sighed deeply and shook her head, her ponytail resting on her right shoulder as she looked down at her feet, which had armored boots on them. Her elbows laid on her knees as she sighed again and leaned forward. Yep, it was official. He was on "The List".

The spear gun on her right forearm crossed with the large needle with a reservoir strapped to her left like blades. She gazed at them longingly, a depressing memories of what she did coming to the surface.

These two were her best friends. The needle she's had since she was a Little Sister, about 6 years old. It obviously showed wear and use from the many years she wore it and cherished it as her best friend, a deadly and trouble-causing best friend. Along it's point and length were dark spots and stains, from the many times it was stabbed into a human being, a dead one, mind you, but a human being nonetheless. Oddly, she never regretted that job.

And then the spear gun strapped to her right. For Big Sisters, the deadly projectile was always strapped to the favored hand. She didn't understand why, they just were. The trigger release was set at the palm of her glove, so she would only need to clench her fist if she wanted to shoot it at the annoying young man, but the safety, which its switch was located on the left of the contraption, was on. She would need to use her left hand to switch the safety off and kill him.

She didn't know why she didn't kill Vector already. Second chances maybe? Nah. That couldn't be it. She knew deep down she knew the real reason why she didn't kill him, but she didn't know it straight forward yet. She would have to contemplate later, since the man in question was speaking to her again.

"Hello? Why are you ignoring me?" He pretty much yelled across to her, even though only about 6 feet separated the two couches. She tilted her head upwards slightly and gave him a death glare.

"Because you're annoying. That's why." She stated simply. It was easy saying it. Maybe too easy since he didn't seemed hurt by the statements at all.

"I just wanna talk. Not trying to be annoying. Just bored."

"Go complain about being bored to someone else, yeah?"

"What if I want to talk to you?"

He could hear her mutter something about regretting not bringing a helmet. She brought out a small device in her pocket which had ear buds, which she inserted into her ears, looked down at the small device now placed in her right hand on top of the trigger release, and moved her thumb to tap something. He could see that she instantly became more relaxed and watched as she mouthed words to herself.

She had gotten out her iPod and was listening to her favorite song, Undeniable by Matt Kearny. She didn't know he was watching her, she thought he had picked up the newspaper to his left and began reading. This song always reminded her of her Little Sister, Eleanor. She shook her head. Now wasn't the time to mourn about Eleanor, but it was potentially a good time to think about her.

She left Eleanor just over a year ago in Rapture, to stay with their mother. She sighed and leaned forward again, iPod still in hand, now listening to a piano instrumental, tapping her left fingers in time with the piano keys being played through the ear buds.

'By now, Eleanor would be 11,' she thought. 'Hope she's not missing me. That would be bad. Something lurking on your mind at all times is a bad thing when you want to become a Big Sister.' She contemplated. Eleanor was not only bonded to her in the Creation way but also through their mother, Sofia Lamb. Since the moment her eyes sat on Eleanor at age 7 in November, she fell in love with her. She remembered whenever their mother wasn't around, she would tell her little sister about their father who died during their mother's pregnancy with Eleanor. She would constantly tell her stories of their father, even if the younger sibling was asleep in her crib. She just loved her little sister.

At age 15, she became one of the first Big Sisters. It was the minimal age to become one. She didn't want to remember why she wanted to become one, but she did anyway. It was to impress the creator of Rapture, Andrew Ryan. He wanted the problem with the Big Daddies dealt with quickly and efficiently, and many young women signed up, though only four were chosen, each created using a different compound. Only two survived. Her and another young woman named Tammy Smanthers. Tammy didn't last long, however. Her compound slowly killed her from the inside, first starting with forgetful memory, then came the stomach pains. Everyone thought that it was maybe the side effects with her "Time of the Month". It wasn't. She pointed out she wasn't bleeding yet. A week later, she started getting spots all along her arms and legs. This was when the scientists and medical assistants of the two surviving Big Sisters got worried.

Of course, Big Sister herself hadn't shown any worrying symptoms of her compound, but Tammy did. She was immediately relieved of her duties and taken into the Emergency Room through the tunnels at the bottom of the building that led into the Medical Complex. The scientists and creators, Dr. Yi Suchong and Brigid Tenenbaum took Big Sister into a lab and reviewed her medical chart and lab experimentation notes. Her compound proved no terrible side effects, only slightly itchy skin that broke out for the first few days but then went away. After sitting in the lab on the seat which she was laid on when she was "Changed" for hours, the two adults walked back in, declaring her the Big Sister of all Big Sisters.

She was the successful experiment. She found out later that Tammy had died of her compound two hours ago. She didn't show any emotion, but instead asked what she was to do then, found out that she could return to her duties or lay down and rest.

She got her helmet, put it on, locked it in place, and went to stalk the halls of Rapture to observe for any defecting Big Daddies. She didn't find any or hear of any that day, but did find out that she was to receive Big Sisters to help train for their job.

She didn't realize Vector had come over to her seat and sat down next to her until she looked up and didn't see him there. She looked to her side and found him sitting next to her, a questioning look smeared across his face.

"What'cha thinkin' about?" He asked.

"None of your business. Go away." She spat out, getting up and sitting where Gru sat before. She was obviously thinking for a while, since his spot was now cold.

Her eyes stung, and so checked her cheeks. They weren't wet. She sighed, leaned forward again, and returned to her position while once again ignoring Vector's presence.

Gru then walked out with a scowl on his face.

"Big Sister, Mr. Perkins will now speak with you." The old woman called out.

"Finally." Big Sister murmured to herself. She got up, put her iPod away into the pouch that was attached to her belt, and walked the great length of the rug to the man's office.

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**For those people who actually know how Big Sisters were made in Bioshock 2 , I'm sorry if this isn't it, this is all I could come up with. ****Sounds pretty good, I hope! :D**

**My fingers are so sore right now. **

**I still love you two (irene and WrittenOnTheSubwayWalls) for making me smile and feel all fuzzy inside. **

**But the main notice still applies!**

**SYDNEY WANTS REVIEWS! :D**


	3. Master Plan

**I LOVE YOU ALL. I REALLY REALLY DO. ESPECIALLY YOU, ALICE.**

**:D She is the only one who mentioned Bioshock along with Despicable Me. (I love you, too! XD)**

**Anyway, gotta go with my Disclaimer. *Sigh***

**Despicable Me does NOT belong to me, but belongs to its creators.**

**Neither does Bioshock.**

**May I remind you, however, that this is NOT a crossover with Bioshock, it's only a reference to Big Sister's past. I'm only using Bioshock because it's my favorite game and DM is my favorite movie.**

**:) Enjoy!**

**P.S. As a forewarning, I'm pretty much half-assing this chapter because I have no idea what her plan should be since NONE OF YOU VOTED.**

**So I had no idea what she should do. :/ I guess I'll just make it up as I go along.**

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_Master Plans_

She sat uncomfortably in the wooden chair in front of the huge man behind the desk with a SOLID GOLD LAPTOP. 'Show off.' She thought to herself. He was ranting on about how there were more…productive villains out there, mentioning Gru and Vector. He was waving a chunky hand whose fingers reminded her of sausages.

She had ignored most of the man's insistent ranting, but always noted when he mentioned Vector. The old manager praised Vector for his imagination, cunning, and youngness. He exaggerated on the young man's master mind.

Big Sister could bet her life that Gru had better plans in one dream than Vector had throughout his entire life so far.

She sighed, laying her right elbow on her knee that stuck up (Being the chair was short and she was tall) and rested her head in her hand. She could feel the pressure pad in the palm of her hand and heard the minute clicks inside the mechanism of the spear gun. Nothing happened, ensuring her that the safety was still on…Although maybe a shot would make things a bit more exciting in the office she sat in now.

She knew that there was no wall behind her, per say, though it had a long gate along the area where the wall should be. Underneath the wall, she knew, was where the podium was, and so if you were to walk up to the gate, and look out, you would be looking into the waiting room, where she had been for about 20 to 25 minutes.

"Are you listening to me?" Mr. Perkins asked her in his normal harsh tone. She shrugged her shoulders, showing she did listen to some. He sighed.

"If you wish for a loan, you must tell me what your plan is, or I can't trust you with this bank's money to do something evil and disastrous. So if you would be willing to tell me your plan now, that would be fine." He explained, harsh tone and frustrated face.

'Probably because he can't see his own fucking toes.' She thought. She sighed, getting up out of her chair and rose to full height, all 5'7". The metal bit of her armor on her joints made slight clinking noises as the metal scratched together when she straightened her knees and elbows.

She sighed, looked to her dearest "Friends" for slight moral support, and turned to the aging man, her large green eyes searching his small grey ones for any sign, any at all.

"Sir, I plan on doing something to our own kind, the Americans," She began (**AN: Like I said, I'm half-assing this.**) "This, I believe, will be remembered not in World History maybe, but definitely in American. This is of great importance because who is the greatest super power in the world?" She asked, looking to the obese man. Before he could answer, she continued.

"America is. We won many wars. First, the Revolutionary war, then the Civil War, we were going to win that anyway, then World War 1, World War 2, the Korean war, the Cold War, and the Vietnam war."

Mr. Perkins looked like he was about to state something when she beat him to it.

"Okay, so maybe we didn't exactly win the Korean war, but we didn't lose either." As her last words left her mouth, she gave the man a look and pointed to him, shoving her point into his thick head. "It's very important that to take over the world, you first must take out the most powerful, so that you may become the most powerful. And by taking the most majestic insignia of America, it would throw the country into absolute chaos."

The man gave her a cold stare. "What are you getting to?" he asked, coldly.

"Simple." She replied, her lips curling into a smirk.

"I'm going to steal the statue of Liberty. Maybe hold a ransom for it so for however much I owed you, I could pay you back, plus keep a profit for myself." She added.

"But if you give it back, won't they go after you?" Mr. Perkins questioned her.

"Sir, you forget." She walked to his desk and leaned over towards him, her palms flat on the desk, the tip of the spear gun nearly reaching the other side and the needle pointing almost threatening at him, especially with its blood stained tip.

"I'm from Rapture. I'm a Big Sister. I'm THE Big Sister. I'm a master of disappearing and disguise. Do you know how many people in just a 10 mile radius have dark brown hair and green eyes? Too many. They would never find me. And besides, no one in this damned country knows my name."

The old man leaned back in his chair, either to contemplate or get away from the needle and spear. He put his chin in his hand and scratched at the area around his nose.

"Well, if you're not going to keep it, then how will I get credit?" He questioned.

"Sir, if there was one thing my father taught me when I was little that I still highly value today is to give credit where credit is due. If there's some evil person convention anytime soon after I take the damned statue and I'm up there giving my speech of how I did so, I'll be sure to credit you highly." She said, desperately trying to convince him.

He sighed, leaning forward, though not much since her weapons were still pointing to him on his desk.

"Fine. Borrow however much you think you might need. But I want proof that you have it as soon as possible and pay me back as soon as possible, 10 percent more per month. Got it?" He stated seriously, looking her dead in the eyes.

She stood up to her full height, her arms to her side, a huge grin plastered to her face. She gave a mock salute and said the first thing that came to her mind that seemed appropriate to the deal.

"Yes, sir! Big Sister will not let you down!" And with that, she skipped out of the office and into the waiting room where Vector still sat, looking bored. As she trotted past him, he looked up to her huge grin and retreating form.

He would get her someday. Just not now. Soon though. Soon.

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**Woo! :D Finally! It is complete!**

**And I need a new keyboard. It feels weird typing on this one. :/**

**But damn if I'm not proud of myself for half-assing it! :D It's almost like I didn't, I don't think.**

**Well, then again, I'm saying that mainly because I made it and I don't think it's too bad. Eh.**

**Remember once more:**

**SYDNEY WANTS REVIEWS! :D**


	4. She Wasn't Saying

**Once again, I love you all. Especially you, once again, Alice. :)**

**You just keep making my day with your reviews, especially with that latest one. ;) "Whoa, I guess I really do have to steal the Statue of Liberty now!" God damn, I laughed so hard! XD**

**Sausage fingers also made me laugh when I read over the whole thing. :3**

**Disclaimer time. *Sigh again***

**I do not own Despicable Me or Bioshock. They belong to their rightful owners and creators. I only own Big Sister and maybe future OCs that I may neglect.**

**Enjoy! :D**

* * *

_She wasn't Saying_

She pretty much skipped out of the whole bank and into the bathroom that led into it and past the sleeping teller in at the front. She almost laughed at his face as he slept with his head in his hand.

The bell above the door ringed as she opened the door to go through and quickly shut it behind her, not wanting it to create the loud bang doors normally made when you let them shut themselves. She never liked it.

Her blue Toyota Prius sat waiting patiently on the curb in front of the store for her to continue driving. Everyone she knew on the surface constantly made fun of her for having a Prius, but she didn't mind at all. They could laugh all they wanted, but she loved this thing like it was her life, considering blue was Eleanor's favorite color.

She walked around the passenger side, past the front of the car, and onto the driver's side, where she unlocked the door with her key manually and got in, the metal bits of armor scraping together in slight protest.

The car came on in an instant once she turned her key all the way, humming away like it always did, relaxing its driver. She sighed. Some dumb shit had parked too close behind her and the man who parked in front of her parked a little too close.

With the caution of a surgeon during brain surgery, she pulled forward just a tad, turned a bit, backed up, and repeated the process until she was successfully out of the car trap. She knew she messed up after about the fifth process, she had bumped the car in front of her just a tad, not very noticeable, but she still did. She sighed. She hated this part of the day.

She had been driving for about 15 minutes, bravely facing the terrible music on the radio when she came to a stop light. She immediately whipped out her iPod and linked it to the stereo system to listen to her favorite songs. Her number one favorite came on first, just like she left it when she turned it off before she went into the meeting.

_If I could look across the country, From California to New Jersey,_

_Then I would count the parks and lake resorts,_

_And number all the jets and airports,_

_All those rather dreary rain clouds still bother me,_

_Cause I look through the camera eyepiece and cannot see._

_If I could open up my window, And see from Tampa Bay to Juneau,_

_Then I would survey all those open miles, And line them up in single file._

_Everywhere I look I see green scenic sublime,_

_And all those oceanic vistas are so divine._

_If I was standing on the balcony, And you were walking down below,_

_I'd feel rather depressed and out of place, And lonely just to watch you go._

_If you were swinging from the highway overpass, Within the western hemisphere,_

_I'd feel rather afraid and insincere, If you began to disappear._

_If I was walking through a sad art gallery, And you were driving through the night,_

_I'd feel rather alone and ill at ease, Beneath the brilliant showroom light._

_If I was flying on a plane above your town, And you were gazing at the sky,_

_Somehow I'd feel intact and reassured, If you began to wave goodbye._

This, ultimately, was her favorite song, Fuzzy Blue Lights by Owl City. For some odd reason, it kinda reminded her of Eleanor. She sighed and shook her head, continuing driving and focusing on the asphalt ahead of her to get to her rural home.

Another five minutes went by when another one of her favorite songs came on.

_Hold it together, birds of a feather, Nothing but lies and crooked wings,_

_I have the answer, spreading the cancer, You are the faith inside me._

_No, don't, Leave me to die here, Help me survive here._

_Alone, Don't remember, remember._

_Put me to sleep, Evil Angel, Open your wings, Evil Angel, A-ah._

_I'm a believer, Nothing could be worse, All these imaginary friends,_

_Hiding betrayal, Driving the nail, Hoping to find a savior._

_No, don't, Leave me to die here, Help me survive here,_

_Alone, don't, surrender, surrender._

_Put me to sleep, Evil Angel, Open your wings, Evil Angel, Oh._

_Fly over me, Evil Angel, Why can't I breathe, Evil Angel?_

_Put me to sleep, Evil Angel, Open your wings, Evil Angel, Oh._

_Fly over me, Evil Angel, Why can't I breathe, Evil Angel? _

Evil Angel by Breaking Benjamin just vaguely reminded her of the darkly dressed man, Gru. He didn't seem evil, but then again, Big Sister didn't seem evil either, but look at what she was going to do. She sighed as The Last Three Letters by Alesana came on.

_Was this all a lie?_

The male singer cooed gently from her iPod. She was at the stoplight right by her three bedroom, two bathroom home. The reason she had a three bedroom home was because she never expected when Eleanor was going to successfully convince their mother to let her come visit Big Sister.

Probably never.

Their mother was a very strict woman, constantly latching a hold on her daughters personal lives. Big Sister had just barely managed to escape her mother, but as stated, had to leave Eleanor with her. To be honest, she felt guilty about leaving Eleanor with their ever controlling mother, but it was to be expected.

She pulled into the driveway smoothly and gave herself a mental pat on the back. Normally, she would get into the driveway crooked since from the stoplight she had to take a sharp right, but she nailed it sometimes. She turned off her car, got her iPod, and stepped out into the afternoon sun, making her armor feel like weights more than protection.

She entered the code to unlock her front door, knowing if she had to use a key should would next to never get in ever again, and shut the wooden door behind her as she stepped into the air conditioned living room.

At the sound of the door opening and closing, her two cats and puppy came running to greet her. Her puppy was a Bloodhound and had adopted him from a pound after being found as a stray. He was only 4 months old at the time, but by now he was half a year and was aptly named Droopy. The eyes never failed to make her heart skip.

Her two cats were a bit older than her dog. Jinx, her tabby cat, was now a year old, and was barely a foot and a half long from the tip of her nose to the tip of her tail. Her more outgoing guy friends nicknamed her Mini-Kitty, with her being so small. The nickname stuck.

Then there was the oldest of the cats, her Russian Blue, Lewis. She at times hated that cat but loved him for oddity anyway. At three in the morning, he was pretty much the loudest thing she had ever encountered, with his meows right next to her ear while she was trying to sleep. He would jump onto her bed and lay on the pillow, face her head, and meow as long and loud as it took for her to give him attention, which was normally either her ending up petting him until he was satisfied or her picking him up with one hand and tossing him over the side of the bed, which normally ended up with him hauling ass out of her room.

They were good pets. Really, they were. She bent down on one knee and picked each one up individually, kissed them on their forehead (Which, with Droopy, she got a kiss back on the nose), and got up to go to her room to change out of her armor.

Her room was located in a short hallway just to the right of the front door. At the end of the hallway, right in front of you was the small bathroom, to the left was a bedroom with a small window overlooking the neighbors backyard and to the right was her room, which held a huge window that overlooked the front yard. She hated her room during the summer, however, and kept out of it during the day unless she needed to, which she needed it now.

Getting her armor off was a feat in itself in some situations, like when you're intensely wet from swimming or in extreme heat or cold. She never thought her choice of room through when she first got the house. She knew having a big window during the winter was good because it soaked up heat from the sun, but she didn't think of it doing it during the summer. In the summer, it was hell in her own home, although at night it was always cool enough to bear.

She delicately unlatched her spear gun off of her right forearm and did the same with her needle on her left. Her hands now free from their weights, she was able to get to the many buttons, zippers, and latches that were located all along her suit.

A couple of minutes went by when she finally got out of the suit, only to be in her tank top and undies. She turned to her dresser and bent down to the bottom of the three drawers and opened it, showing her nothing was in there but pants of all kinds. Remarkably, she even had a skirt or two in there. One she wore to a funeral and one she wore to a fancy party she was forced to go to back in Rapture.

She dug around for a few seconds when she finally found her favorite pair of shorts. They were khaki in color, but not in style. In style, they were slightly baggy and reached near her knees, but closed up around her waist, to ensure her that they would never fall too far below for someone to give her a wedgie.

She didn't bother looking for a shirt, she was just fine with her tanktop. She reached into the pack on the side of the suit that was now laying on her bed (After being tossed carelessly onto it), and retrieved her iPod and headphones. She laid the headphones in a little box and latched said box shut so the cats wouldn't play with them (Lord knew the cats had enough toys), and put her iPod into her speakers that were connected to her computer in the room.

This computer was meant only for plans and research for her plans. It was also used for contacts in case she was hired to take someone out and for personal mail from Eleanor or her mother. Maybe even her old friends, Sander Cohen and Kyle Fitzpatrick, both artists of music, only Sander was in artist in everything. She rolled her eyes at the thought of Sander. He was mad at times, yes, but at other times was genuinely sane, but all the time was a creator of masterpieces. Kyle was one of his "Disciples" or apprentices. More than once, Sander offered her a place among them whenever she visited, but always declined, reminding him of her job to protect the Little Sisters.

She pressed play on the small remote that controlled the sound to the computer and the iPod sprang to life with music once more. Better Than Me by Hinder came on.

"Oh, no you don't." She muttered angrily to the iPod. She didn't like this song and had no idea why she left the damn thing on there. She pressed the Skip button until she came upon a song she wanted to hear, Believe Me I'm Lying by Forever the Sickest Kids.

She turned the speakers loud with the thin remote and walked out of her steaming room once she set it down. As always, she noticed a temperature change between her room and the rest of the house. She walked into the living room where Droopy was waiting for her to pick him up and tell him how much she loved him, which she did. Droopy's thin, small tail wagged its way into a blur as she pressed her face close to his and started telling him how much she loved the sad-eyed dog. Lewis lay on top of the couch nearby, and if the old 3 year old cat could, it would scoff and roll its eyes. Jinx, as always, was nowhere to be seen.

After turning on her T.V., she walked around the coffee table and onto the brown couch that accented with the white carpet and tan walls, with Droopy following jumping on as well and laying in her lap as she stretched her legs onto the coffee table. She scratched the pup's ears as she ignored the T.V. and thought about the two men she met that day.

Gru and Vector seemed to be absolute polar opposites. Where Gru seemed dark and a little mysterious, Vector was bright and pretty damn obvious. Where Gru was quiet, Vector was loud. Where Gru thought, Vector acted. She rolled her eyes. Polar opposites in the same place. What a coincidence.

She kinda liked Gru, now that she thought about it. He didn't snap at her when she snapped at Vector, but calmly spoke to her. He seemed to be thoughtful when he didn't talk. She wasn't saying that the Russian accent definitely got to her when he spoke to her. She wasn't saying she loved the blue eyes. She wasn't saying she wanted to steal his scarf and wrap it around her neck and smell it. She wasn't saying any of it.

She wasn't saying she was looking for a relationship.

* * *

**DAMN! This is the longest chapter I have ever written, EVER.**

**My fingers hurt. :'(**

**Reviews would be muchly appreciated, since I started typing at almost 2 in the morning and submitted the thing at almost 4. D:**

**Fucking sleeping cycle. I screwed it all up.**

**Anywho, the rule still applies!**

**SYDNEY WANTS REVIEWS! :D**


	5. NOT A REAL CHAPTER

Sorry guys that it's been so long, but something just recent just had to grate on my nerves.

A BUNCH.

Yes, CelticWriter, this is most definitely aimed at YOU.

That was complete and utter bullshit that you gave me a fucking ESSAY about how my history was off. I seriously would've gotten it if you had just LEFT IT AT "I dislike your history references."

Really. I would've gotten it. Crystal clear.

Also, you're going to act like you're the fucking Queen of Canada just because I'm American and I didn't ace my history classes? REALLY?

And I didn't say America won the two World Wars ALONE.

I'll admit it right now, I got a little lazy with researching. Sorry, your majesty.

Don't act all high and mighty and shit because you did your research.

That was total bullshit.

And why are you acting like I should be proud of the things "my people" have done? Do you honestly think I really am?

Trust me, I'm most definitely not.

And we didn't bomb the Japanese "just to show off" dipshit. In REFERENCE to "Hey look, we have bombs and you don't, ha-ha!".

The whole Nagasaki thing? Yeah, I did my research this time, your Highness. The results varied.

Apparently, after the first bomb on Hiroshima, we offered surrender, but to no avail because of the Militarists that ruled the country. After bomb number two, bam. Surrender. The Emperor had decided it was enough.

Remember, I said the results VARIED. Not entirely sure, my Queen.

We were afraid of holding onto the second one for too long because we didn't know much about it if we held it for a while longer than the first. Nagasaki had a bowl shaped valley, which was excellent for bombing purposes. It may have shown to the Soviet Union at the time that we weren't to be messed with. (Remember, The United States and Soviet Union didn't exactly get along too long after the second World War ended.)

"No single country wins a war unless it's a war between ONLY two countries. They're apart of an alliance otherwise. So don't say 'AMERICA WON THE WORLD WARS' because it's ignorant, and anybody who knows history not JUST from the point of view of America will tell you otherwise, like me."

Listen, just because you're from another country doesn't really mean you get bragging rights. Because that's just arrogant. Like you.

Listen, my history teacher was from the Vietnam war. He never like talking about it. FOR A GODDAMN REASON. He wasn't too proud of what happened either, so get off my back.

And YES MA'AM, I will "LEARN MY HISTORY" if you just get the fuck off my back. Seriously.

I didn't ace my history classes, like I said.

"I don't care about the Revolutionary War or the Civil War because frankly American history is far too over exaggerated and boring."

Are you seriously fucking kidding me?

Like yours is any more exciting.

I know, I'm lecturing, but read your "review" before you post. Because you just sounded completely and totally arrogant. The essence of arrogance!

Next time I mess up on one of my stories, please please PLEASE don't act like I'm the only one.

If my history's off, don't give me a fucking ESSAY about how America sucks at wars and how our history is "boring and over exaggerated".

Please, just leave it off at "I dislike your history references."

Shit would be a whole lot better and I wouldn't have to be typing this from 4 to almost 5 in the morning because of a "review" on my story.


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